


Tune-Up

by Lucifers_Trash_Stash



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Dirty Talk, Dubious Consent, F/M, Mild Smut, One Shot, Power Dynamics, Robot/Human Relationships, grievous is a dick to droid repair people
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-08
Updated: 2020-02-08
Packaged: 2021-02-28 06:00:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,143
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22619038
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lucifers_Trash_Stash/pseuds/Lucifers_Trash_Stash
Summary: You are tasked to give General Grievous a tune-up before he returns to battle, but he has other plans in mind for you.
Relationships: Grievous | Qymaen jai Sheelal/Reader
Comments: 8
Kudos: 146





	Tune-Up

**Author's Note:**

> Hello everyone, this fic was written with the prompt dirty talk for General Grievous and I was happy to write for one (1) wheezy boi

When the Separatists landed on your planet, you never thought you would be dealing with any of them personally. Especially not the fearsome General Grievous, whose prowess in combat was known throughout the Galaxy. Many stories told of his four robotic arms, each wielding a lightsaber, cutting down anyone who got in his way. No one stood a chance against him.

Which was why you, a lowly droid technician, were terrified to have been called to personally provide Grievous with a tune-up as he stopped on the planet for a short respite. He would then go to battle with the Republic forces who currently were trying to rescue your planet from Count Dooku’s stronghold. It made you anxious that you were actively helping your planet’s kidnappers by fixing up their most ferocious General.

When he arrived, he had pushed past you and sat upon the bench in your work space, barely acknowledging your presence. Even sitting, he still towered over you. A long black cloak hung over his shoulders, and you found it odd that a droid wore clothes. Still, you couldn’t exactly work on him with it on, so you raised your trembling hands around his shoulders to unfasten the bindings, but with a jolt he grabbed both of your wrists within clawed hands. 

You winced, trying to pull yourself away, but he held firm. “I have to remove this in order to begin work,” you said in as polite a tone as you could muster.

With a scoff, he released your hands. Grievous glared over his shoulder, piercing, yellow eyes glaring straight through you. You had never seen a droid with such realistic eyes before, but you chalked it up to a design choice. “Don’t think I’m not aware of your every move, Republic-aligned scum.”

“We were a neutral planet, before the Separatists got involved, General.” You couldn’t help the snide tone as you removed his cloak, folding it up neatly and setting it to the side before returning to the work before you. You had fixed many droids before, and while he seemed no different, there was something about his structure that inferred that he was more complex than he appeared. Still, a job was a job and you had to do it, otherwise you might find yourself on the opposite end of his lightsabers.

Grievous let out a wheeze- who would program a droid to wheeze?- and glared at you again. “There is no time for hesitation in war, pathetic human.” 

With a sigh, you ignored him and turned your attention to your tools. You had worked on many obnoxious droids before, but at least you were able to turn them off. Grievous would certainly berate you every step of the way. What was the point of recalibrating his circuits if he was going to complain the entire time?

Still, you set about going to work, fine tuning and oiling his joints. He didn’t move for most of the process, simply staring ahead as you worked on him. The most he did was roll his shoulders after you completed that area. When you moved in front of him, that is when his disposition began to sour again. 

You had reached for his chest piece to open and adjust the mainframe inside, but again he quickly caught my hands. With an angry hiss, you explained, “If you want me to service you fully, you have to let me work.” 

Instead of his usual angry replies, he laughed darkly with that crackling voice box of his. “There was a time in which I would have preferred to be serviced, though not in this way.”

You stared at him with a confused expression on your face before he suddenly stood and leaned over your body. A rush of fear shot through you, and all you could do was stand there as Grievous held you in place. “There is still organic matter within me, though none of the parts that truly matter in this instance.”

Ignoring the implications of his statement, you asked, “So your eyes are real?”

“Very. As real as my recollections of the thoughts and feelings of you organics.” He stepped forward, his clawed feet advancing as you instinctively stepped back. “I remember what fear used to feel like. Desire. Lust.”

He now had you pinned to the wall behind you, holding your wrists above you as you watched in horror when another set of arms retracted from his ribcage. One of the hands reached out to grab your chin, jerking your head up to meet his gaze. “You would have been the kind of treat I would have enjoyed as an organic.” Another hand brushed down your chest, lingering between your breasts before dipping down to your hip and gripping tightly with his metal talons. “I had many lovers on my home planet of Kalee, but I always thought a human would prove more interesting.”

He adjusted your wrists into one hand, and with his new free hand he returned to your chest, kneading your breasts through your clothes as you struggled in vain to be free of him. Despite the fact that your body was growing hotter by the second from this creature’s manhandling. “You humans are all so soft, so malleable.” He paused to cough. “I miss the warmth most of all.”

The hand on your hips slowly shifted, his long, lithe fingers stroking your sex over the fabric of your pants. You jolted, gasping at the sudden intrusion. And yet you couldn’t help but shift your hips forward, allowing him better access to you. He let out a garbled noise, a laugh, you assumed. “Always were they warm, wet, and ready for me. I crave to feel that again.” He leaned his head down to the crook of your neck, his faceplate cool against your hot skin. When he spoke again, the vibrations from his voice box tingled against you, sending a pleasurable shudder through your body. “However, it is humbling to know that I have not lost my touch in this new form.” You trembled in his grip, his fingers nimble against you, and you were so close to release.

Without warning, you fell to the ground with a loud thump, staring up in shock as he whisked around to sit back on the bench, staring at you as if nothing had happened. “I have places to be, human. Finish your work or you will have to explain to Count Dooku why you failed to finish in a timely manner.” 

You blinked a couple of times before you quickly stood up on shaky legs. With a grumble, you went back to work, hoping you never had to deal with General Grievous again, or else you feared you might throw your honor out the window and jump him just to feel those claws on you again.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading, you can check out more of me on tumblr @lucifers-trash-stash :D


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